


Necessary Precautions, part 2

by Buntheridon



Series: Two Sides to Every Tale [11]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: BDSM, F/M, Horde War Campaign, Nate forever loyal bf to Sylvie, Nathanos is a total tease, Orgasm Denial, Safewords, Whipping, World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth, he’s an asshole too but that is what we’re here for right, sharing sexcapades
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:49:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24371593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buntheridon/pseuds/Buntheridon
Summary: Part 3/3 of Vol'dun campfire. (I have no idea where the line between Light and regular BDSM goes so this might either be too little or too much for someone.)
Relationships: Nathanos Blightcaller/Original Female Character(s), Nathanos Blightcaller/Sylvanas Windrunner
Series: Two Sides to Every Tale [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1647757
Comments: 14
Kudos: 15
Collections: (A high regard for Nathanos)





	Necessary Precautions, part 2

The smaller moon over Vol’dun has reached the horizon, touching the ocean with its light, creating a wavy bridge to where the elven sisters are camping.

“Well? Out with it! All the details, now!”

Shalaen lowers her lashes over her darkened eyes and smiles widely. “Hold your dreadsteeds, sister. We are getting there.”

  
  


****

  
  


The setting sun paints Shalaen’s hair golden. She watches as the night shift of guards arrive at the battleship below her in the Dazar’alor harbor. She’s standing atop the grand welcoming arch on the pier, hidden from sight. Her fingers fiddle with the silken coil of rope she has with her. 

This might be a step that cannot be undone, after which everything changes. She might not even survive it, who knows.

Deciding on a safeword is a contract. It is, if not dedication, at least an understanding to respect the other’s boundaries. An understanding that there will be occasions, several, where that word has power. You wouldn’t agree about something like that with someone you were going to sacrifice or kill soon, would you? The thought only passes her mind briefly for the breathtaking knowledge of what’s to come overpowers everything else.

When the orc and the nightborne leave the ship she summons her magical wrathsteed and flies down. It’s time to see how good a match they really are. _Come what may._

Nathanos is at the map table. When he sees Shalaen arrive he says something to dark ranger Alina who nods and flashes a grin at her when he’s not looking. The Blightcaller strides to a doorway behind him, stops and waits for the warlock to follow.

“Tell me the word.” She sees he’s not going to move until this issue is settled.

“I don’t think I need one.” It’s obvious he gets to kill as much people or beings he wants or needs to sate his possible bloodlust; he’s the head of the Horde’s prisoner interrogation so there are probably many interesting ways he can cause pain to any number of individuals. Unless he’s completely insatiable, which he doesn’t look at all, Shalaen has deduced those aren’t the things he would get up to with a willing, sexually interested partner. She could almost say she trusts him in this.

He eyes her up and down, amusement and slight tint of approval passing his features. “Oh, you will. And it’s necessary for liability and legal reasons, Speaker. Apparently your person is somewhat essential for the war effort and I need to be able to swear that you had the power to defend yourself.“

“Like you couldn’t lie your way out of an accident if one were to happen.”

“Not to her I won’t.” 

_Yet you will gladly toy with and hurt someone who vaguely looks like her._ But she did feel that warmth between those two. The situation seems to be more complicated than it first appears. “Fine. Let’s say it’s _‘down’,_ like you would command your hounds.”

“Hmh. Agreed.” He turns to walk down the steps into the lower levels of the ship and Shalaen follows him close by.

“Can I say ‘down, boy’?” she giggles, nervous and giddy.

“If you do, I won’t have to stop.”

In the dimly lit hold of the ship Nathanos turns right twice, opens a thick wooden door and gestures her to step in, feigning a gentlemanly human custom of holding doors to ladies. It’s a small semicircle room with a table, a cupboard and a bed, a wooden column in the middle supporting the low roof. The opaque purple tinted windows seem to be for decoration only.

“I thought you’d take me to an interrogation room.”

“Any room will do if you know how to push their buttons. And I’m not asking questions tonight.” The door clicks shut behind them. “The rope.”

The warlock drops her backpack in a corner and slowly turns around. When she gives him the thin, shiny coil her hand trembles slightly and she curses inwardly. Nathanos places it on the desk along with his thick leather gloves. He opens the belt and shrugs his cape and overcoat off. All this he does like he were alone in the room and she feels both abandoned and a voyeur. Underneath he has a white linen shirt that he leaves on after opening the uppermost button and rolling the sleeves halfway up. It’s like he has done this ritual a thousand times while someone nearby is watching him and shivering, cornered or shackled, ready to reveal anything he wants them to.

But he wouldn’t waste his time on the easy ones himself, would he? He’d pick only the high-ranking and important captives, Shalaen is sure; the nearly unbreakable ones, those he knows hate him with ardor – those whose humiliation would give him the most satisfaction.

When he turns his glowing red eyes on her the impact is phenomenal. No wonder most of the victims are wrecked after being questioned – she’s seen some being hauled off to their cells or to be executed elsewhere – this man is a master of intimidation. Her thighs are slicked in moments.

“So,” he drawls, his voice full of amusement masked as indifference, “what am I to do with you?”

“Whatever you wish, sire”, she rasps, her arousal having reached her throat. Her eyes dart to his tight trousers now fully visible without the overcoat. There’s a bulge, but only a soft, resting one. The mystery of the undead genital functions is still to be solved. Nathanos chuckles, sits at the edge of the table and takes the coil of silk rope in his hands.

“You seem to be enjoying this and we haven’t even started. I think I wish to correct that.”

“My aim is for you to find pleasure in this as well. If that requires disciplining me, by all means, let’s start there”, Shalaen shrugs. She’s probably never going to let him know how much she can see through his bad boy act. The misery and pain of undeath are very real, but she’s convinced there are other ways to deal with them than the old trodden path of toughening of skin and immersing oneself in violence. The mere fact that she’s managed to make the Blightcaller interested in her speaks of needs that are possible to uncover, name and satisfy.

The worst case scenario is he’s just bored and agreed to this for the laughs. But is he the sort to get bored, or laugh for that matter? Oh, he would punish her even more if he knew how utterly healer-like the warlock’s secret approach to his mystery is.

Her flippant way of talking seems to have motivated him.

“Take the robe off.”

His voice is deep and dark and full of threat. Shalaen wills herself to shut up, knowing by the sudden tightness in her throat her words would come out cracked and probably ridiculous. This is worse and better than she had imagined. Her heart is hammering against her ribs and she’s forced to take very deep breaths to seem calm. She pulls her Honorbound robe over her head and tosses it in the general direction of her bag. Underneath she only has her knee high boots and the necklace.

“Convenient – for some other occasion”, Nathanos grunts, clearly not that interested in her naked form. He watches her a while, hands knotting the thin rope like it was something he did to pass the time – until she sees what it is. She smiles and clears her throat.

”Is this what you do to the enemy?”

”No. I break their bones and ruin their minds. This is far too soft and nice. Turn around, arms around the pillar, legs wide.”

She has a feeling she is being tested, or that he’s looking for a baseline for her treatment. She obeys and hugs the pillar. Nathanos walks slowly around her and almost looking absentminded starts coiling and knotting the rope around her wrists, binding them together very efficiently.

“This is unnecessary since I know you wouldn’t run away and if you were so stupid as to try, there are so many ways for me to keep you immobile. But you seemed so keen on using this I’m being nice again.” The word reminds her of the dream and she chuckles. He cuts half of the rope with a knife, the end that he had been working on. It has knots on it between short intervals and after some elaborate handiwork it becomes a whip with some tails. The rope is soft but anything can hurt with enough force.

Sure enough, when he circles behind her again and the first lick of the ropes hits her back she’s unprepared for just how much it stings. She grunts and clenches her teeth tight. He’s not using much force, like he’s testing if he’s even interested in this, like it’s a chore. But by the third lash he seems to be getting more into it and she conjures an obsolete warlock aura around her to distribute the pain across all her skin instead of just the spot on her back. The pain becomes bearable and she can better concentrate on listening to him behind her, searching for signs of his mood. Fifth lash has her already moaning in a different tone.

“Cheating, isn’t that?” He adds force just to show he can break through her defences – and her skin. ”I’ve seen you genuinely relish in inflicting pain on others, warlock. I’ve felt you practically ooze pleasure when they have begged for mercy and their spirits have slowly broken off from their flesh. So how is it that now you seem to welcome punishment? Don’t tell me it’s guilt, I would be very disappointed in you.”

”No, it’s – ah – never, I’ve never even considered this would delight me. I’m as surprised – _ohh fuck_ – as you are, my lord.”

It’s not the medium, nor the pain alone. It’s because _he_ is doing it. She can’t think of any other reason.

There’s something scary about that thought. “Why don’t you call me Ranger-General instead?”, she jokes with a gasp as the whip makes her shudder again. Nathanos stops. _Oops, was that too forward?_ She feels him right behind her as he grabs her chin in his big hand, tilting her head backwards so the top if it rests against his chest. His red eyes stare at her green ones from above.

“Your ambitions are pointless. You know this.”

“I’m not trying… to replace her. But there are things… you cannot do with her. I am available.” _You probably haven’t done intimate things with anyone after your death._

He takes a step back. His cold fingers travel down over the fresh welts, strangely soothing the burn and ache yet it’s probably unintentional; Shalaen flinches when he caresses over her bum, so close to where she wants him most. She wasn’t expecting any touching after his display of indifference.

“You keep insisting I should find myself back to human needs. The lack of them has made me strong, tireless and better concentrated on my work. Yet...” 

And his fingers move closer to her butt crack, 

“...you suggest…”

He slides his touch down the cleft never going deep enough, and she inhales sharply and tilts her hips backwards but he knows to expect that and withdraws just enough not to grant her wish,

“...I go back to being…”

His hand dips down between her thighs, verifying the dripping wetness there, bypassing her quim altogether like out of spite.

“...weak, like you?”

Chuckling both amused and still clearly surprised by her continuing fancy for him he pulls his hand away. She whines, not seeing behind her but imagining the fingers by his nose, on his tongue, wanting to taste. _I wish._

 _“Oh, fuck you”,_ she mutters, bracing herself for a lash that doesn’t come. 

“I can see you want to, against all reason.”

There it is again, that very slight crack in his badass mask, almost self-irony. “Like you would lose your strength if you take a day off from time to time and shag a girl. You don’t feel like trying, or you simply cannot? I don’t mind, there are other ways to–”

“Shush.” He presses his palm over her mouth covering half her face and she just loves it. “If I were to meet you again we need a gag for that mouth of yours.” He leans his hips against her bum and she feels it, a rock hard length of unmistakable body part through the leather.

“There’s no logic to your idiotic assumptions, air breather. You see my muscles, senses and brain working just fine but you presume undeath chooses some random bits to leave out? It does not, unless those bits are actually falling off or rotted before resurrection. I can will any part of me to work but it’s a matter of needing to use them. I have no need for this.”

 _You would have if she asked you,_ she thinks, delighted beyond measure that there’s at least a chance of him boning her one day. He doesn’t leave her back immediately, like he was considering something. Shalaen breathes fast and deep through her nose, a muffled whine or two leaving her throat, the mere steady pressure of his cock between her buttocks pushing her near the edge. Then Nathanos moves away abruptly and opens her binds. A quick glance towards the front of his pants confirms her estimation. He notices that but does not comment.

“Well now. This has been interesting, but I have work to do. You know how to get out of here, don’t you?” He rasps, putting on his heavy jacket and picking up the rest of his gear, striding towards the door like nothing important had been going on.

“That’s it?” she complains, her walls throbbing angrily in denied fulfillment. For a moment he looks almost friendly.

“I will call on you. You wanted me to enjoy? Don’t go copulating with anyone without my permission. Seeing you suffer in need just started to entertain me.” With that he’s gone, leaving her to gather her things and wits.

  
  


*** 

  
  


“Aahhahhahhaa it’s so funny when he just ditches you whenever he feels like it! And now you have to live chastely like a tidesage!”

“Fuck you too, darling. So yeah, that was yesterday. What have I gotten myself into?”

“Oh, stars.” Loreina wipes her tears of schadenfreude. “Was he big? Humans usually are. I’ll tell you later how I know.”

 _“Oh, yes”,_ Shalaen groans. “So at least one part of him has some _humanity_ left.”

“...How do you even manage?”

“What do you think? I wank. Repeatedly. But I have hope, he promised I would need the safeword and I didn’t, this time. Now tell me about _your_ escapades.”

“Don’t have time for that, dear, I’m already late for… a thing. We’ll see soon, yeah?” Her void sister gets up and pulls out her hearthstone.

“If the war permits. Take care, don’t let the fleabags bite.”

“Not unless I want them to. Don’t catch the blight, ghoul hunter.”

She’s glad Loreina isn’t there to witness her ride back. Not so much for the animals but the singing’s extremely disconcerting.


End file.
